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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28387650">Scrapbook (or think of this as a sketchbook for my writing)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolrush/pseuds/pistolrush'>pistolrush</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Alexei is a mean bastard, Attempted Murder, Because she curses in ways that sailors blush at, Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Character(s) of Color, Corruption, Deal with a Devil, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Human/Vampire Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Memes, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Kissing, Olivia is a lot more immature here, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Persian inspired culture, Royalty, Scraps, Shibari, Short, To Be Edited, Transformation, Vampire Bites, Vampires, Witch kings, Work In Progress, Yandere, idea for a cross over fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28387650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolrush/pseuds/pistolrush</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits and pieces of works that I either omitted from current stories or will go back to work on when I have more free time. Or even drabbles that really don't fit anywhere else. I just can't bear to throw them out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ardyn Izunia/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was the original version of the dream from Chapter 2 of my Sergei fic. But it felt too coherent for such a scene. So I went for symbolism instead</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I want to kill her.” Olivia hisses as she takes another sip of tea. She cringes as the hot tea aggravates the cut on her lip. Unshed tears make her nose congested. The cups handle held tight in her bruised and cut hands. Alexei paused in stirring sugar cubes in his cup of tea. A bemused smile flickers across his face at her bravado. </p>
<p>“What she did hardly warrants a murder, pupsyk. Put your cup down before you break it.” Olivia knows she’s too clumsy for such fine things. She sets the porcelain cup down like a fragile kitten. There was no illusion between the two of them.</p>
<p>If there was a single crack, Olivia could not sit for a week. He’d use the switch. This brief taste of western decadence was a test as much as an indulgence.    </p>
<p>She sees now that he’s manicured his nails. A womanly action, but she keeps that thought unvoiced. Everything about him seemed too gentle, too soft for a criminal. However, that first time when she’d tried to pick his pockets had disabused her of that misconception. The marks recently healed, but the ache lingered.</p>
<p>Blood trickles down her chin. Olivia wipes at the mess with a napkin, the black hate of her mother’s landlady making her grind her molars. If she kept getting into fights with anyone that called her mother a whore, she’d never be good enough for Alexi’s regard. The welts on her inner thighs made her wonder if she wanted that attention.</p>
<p>“That bitch called my mother a whore! I defended her because my father wouldn’t.” </p>
<p>“Stop bleeding on my spoons and calm yourself. So Yeva called your mother a whore. She is right. Mama fucks men for money, right? Did that warrant you getting into a fight with her and those oafs she birthed? Was it worth the little walk of shame to my door, begging me to get offended on your behalf for a mother that opens her legs for a ruble?” Despite the scolding, his voice is soft. His gentle face unconcerned about the stricken look on her face. </p>
<p>“Yes. Papa only shrugged and walked out to get vodka! I fought for her because he didn’t!” He laughed at her then. Olivia takes a deep breath, swallows back the tears that sprang up. She hadn’t cried when Yeva’s son punched her in the face. She’d be goddamned if she did now. Besides, Alexei hated weakness.</p>
<p>“You are too much like your father before he went to prison. Prideful. Wrong-headed. More concerned about the insult than the injury. No wonder your dear papa got sent to Siberia and your mother had to turn tricks to put food on the table. You should be less hasty to fight when you can't win.” Her hands tremble and a huff breaks free from her clenched teeth.  </p>
<p>The pale slip of a man that merely watched as his family got spat on wavered in her mind. Hollow brown eyes looking out from a colder place as he sipped cheap vodka. Her mother entertaining clients in the next room failed to move him.</p>
<p>She didn’t want to think of Papa. How she grew to despise his weakness. Especially not here, but the tears come. Hot and full of the shame that sat heavy on her chest. His lips quirk up at her distress. </p>
<p>“Oh pupsyk, I hope I didn’t make you cry.” He gets up and wipes at the tears on her face. “I’m not going to just let them walk around scoot free. Can’t have those petty thugs thinking they can get away with touching my toys. Now how will you thank me for avenging your little fuck up? How about the switch?” She tries to look away from him, but he holds her chin.</p>
<p>“I don’t have any money. I’m not sure how I can pay you back for that.” He smirks as she tries to bargain with him. Anything but the switch. She couldn’t bear the switch.</p>
<p>“Give me your first kiss. Sure, I corrected your behavior last time, but I never kissed you.”</p>
<p>“There is no value in a kiss. I know you want something else.” Delay. She didn’t want to give this snake of a man her first kiss. There was that pleasant boy in the apartment down the hall from her family’s. The one who tucked a flower in her brown hair on Kupala Night. Who comforted her as she walked back from Alexei’s with tears in her eyes. Olivia kept her distaste off her face. </p>
<p>“If your first kiss has no value to you, then why hesitate in kissing me? Surely, your mother’s side job has made you immune to love’s false lure.” Olivia kisses Alexei to shut him up. She was tired of his attempts to read her. It is a chaste peck, like the ones she’d give to her own mother as a smaller child. He yanks her head back with a tsk, fingers curled in her hair.</p>
<p>“Terrible. If I wanted a kiss like that, I’d go to my grandmama.” He rattles her, and she feels her teeth cut the inside of her mouth. She doesn’t beg for him to stop. That would only make him more eager to hurt. Her split lip bleeds again. Olivia hates herself for it.</p>
<p>“Let me ask you something. Despite what I told you, is there a boy you like? One you wanted to kiss more than me just now?” Alexei eases up, caresses down her ruffled hair. His voice is so smooth. Leaks into her head like golden oil, making her shiver. </p>
<p>“No… No! What boy could compare to you? What makes you think I would ever betray you?” He runs a thumb over her bottom lip.</p>
<p>“Seventeen and already a flatterer. Terrible at lying, though. I guess watching your mother…” Olivia lets out a hiss of anger, she wants to spit at him. But the memory of that sadistic smile as the blows rain down on her thighs keeps her tamed. He watches her closely as the anger drains from her face.</p>
<p>“Just like that silly temper, I’ll train your need to flatter out of you. But for now, kiss me again. And imagine I’m that boy you wanted to kiss first.” Olivia takes a deep breath. Then kisses him, mouth opening as he presses his lips harder. </p>
<p>It’s all wrong to her. She knows that the sensitive boy down the hall would never thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. That he wouldn’t taste like Belomorkanals and expensive foreign teas. Nor would he grip her neck to steal bits of her breath. And she doubted she would experience that strange euphoria as Alexei’s hands tightened over her carotid. A feverish sensation makes her head spin. She pushes at him. </p>
<p>‘Stop it. I hate you!’ Her mind screams as he runs his tongue over her teeth. </p>
<p>Olivia’s breath leaves her mouth in sharp gasps. He pulls back with a grin. He lets her go, and she sinks back into her chair, afraid. She knows she should run. Her blood has covered his mouth. “Smachno. I knew you’d taste delightful. That makes up for your childish actions. Would you like to watch me teach those mean boys a lesson?”</p>
<p>Despite herself, Olivia flashes him a feral, bloody grin. “Yes.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I might come back to this idea because I like it. And Ardyn is fun to write. Just like the idea of making a corruption story with a princess as well. Yes, I am a multi-fandom nerd</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“My father is a fool, Ardyn.” The girl quiets the white bird in its ornate cage before turning back to meet his gaze. He can see the disdain in her brown eyes. He keeps quiet, letting her finish. She moves past him, the scent of some desert flower stirring a memory of a similar girl.</p>
<p> A healer in his distant past that he hates to think about now. They have the same gentle eyes. She sits down at a table, her handmaiden adjusting the veils on her hair so they did not entangle. The girl princess of this realm gestured for him to sit down. Ardyn refused. He might entertain her complaints, but he would not let himself be harassed by her. Noble or not. The girl shrugged, her brown skin showing for a moment before her handmaiden readjusted her blouse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He is afraid of something that comes naturally to all of us. A royal’s reign is finite. We sacrifice so our people can move forward. But thanks to you, the old fool thinks he will rule for forever and lord over the realm. It is unseemly. A disgrace to our ancestors.” At no time does the girl’s voice rise in anger or scream at him. Her scorn clear in her bearing and soft voice. </p>
<p>The disdain for her father’s new advisor was more subtle. Not dismissing her handmaiden, not offering any of the cheese, spriss or dates at her table as he stands there. Ardyn was sure, if she thought him dangerous, there would be a knife in his back. He was not even that important to her, just a nuisance.</p>
<p>Anger was too common for these witch royals, Ardyn saw. They prided themselves on how detached they were from human emotions. Like him, but weaker. How eager he was to daemonize some of them. That would show them how human the bunch of them were. But for now, he removed his hat and smiled winsomely. It would not do to turn the king’s daughter against him.</p>
<p>“I feel honored that you can share your honest opinion with me, Lady Eske. I am sorry that our brief interactions have not improved your opinion of me and my work. I hope to correct that oversight. But I assure you we both have your father’s continued wellbeing in mind. Besides, I believe that we do the best progress in defiance of tradition and nature.” </p>
<p>“I can't help but wonder what is the benefit for you? A stranger with a gilded tongue that just wants to help destroy a tradition. I wonder, are you aligned with Chaos? I can sense that at the very least, even if I am a failure at anything else.” </p>
<p>The smile on his face falters when he sees her eyes turn black and gold. Well, he hadn’t been expecting this. </p>
<p>The king’s daughter was a blighted one. How delightful, and she didn’t even know it. Why else would she oppose his actions? It probably manifested as the occasional headache when her emotions ran too hot. As if to prove him right. She closes her eyes, and they are normal again. She presses a hand to her forehead as if she is having a headache. There is a spot of black below her nose. Her handmaiden wipes at her nose with a handkerchief. She goes to get water for Eske, who stands shakingly to her feet. </p>
<p>“I am sorry that you had to see that. I have not been well.” They are alone, and Ardyn is aware of how improper this is. He keeps his distance.</p>
<p>“My lady, how long has this illness troubled you?”</p>
<p>“Why would you care?” </p>
<p>“I am curious on how long.” Eske gives him a hard look then answers.</p>
<p>“Since those Ajnabi showed up three years ago.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Yandere Tarot meme- Adrian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nothing like a good meme for my bratty yandere vampire Adrian to cheer me up.  Warning: Yandere mindset if that is triggering for you.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Fool - How deluded is this yandere when it comes to their darling? Are they self aware on any level? Adrian is not at all deluding himself when it comes to his darling Naomi. He knows that she'll come to love him because he always picks his darlings carefully. And Naomi is just as twisted as he is if she would only see. Once he frees her from her petty morality, Naomi will come to see that they are perfect together. Sure he has to do a little nudging but when you love someone, you just want to see them bloom into their true selves with you by their sides. (Ie very delusional at times)</p>
<p>The Emperor - How much of their darling’s life does this yandere dictate/want to dictate? Adrian doesn't come to play, if he can't control all of Naomi then what is the point? He does it because he wants to pamper her, corrupt  her into decadence. Because that is her true self, forget all those pesky protestations. When her face lights up because he’s taking away her problems, then it is all worth.</p>
<p>Strength - How outwardly passionate is this yandere around their darling? Adrian tries to play it cool but everyone who knows him can see it. Like a flower toward the sun, he is always drawn to her. And let us not forget that he's always engaging in gaudy acts of PDA to make sure everyone knows Naomi is taken, hands off. And while Naomi doesn't know it, before they got together, Adrian was already showing her off as his pet/darling/lover.</p>
<p>The Hanged Man - Is controlling their darling important? Or do they want their darling to love them willingly? A mix of both for him. His ego demands that he seduce Naomi into loving him. But at the same time, considering that he is a full blown monster, a little control is needed. Whether it is subtle mind control, the use of pain, hurting loved ones, manipulation, stalking, vampirization, forcing her to cum until their mind breaks or using geas, Adrian is a sore fucking lover when it comes to winning over his pets. Naomi is quite aware of this and to her credit, he had to do all this because she resisted the hardest.</p>
<p>The Tower - If this yandere saw their darling in danger, how would they respond/react? You should ask those skinheads that broke Naomi's arm, oh wait you can't. They're in several different pieces all over the city. Maybe the order of monks that wanted to kill Marcus for being a blood mage. Wait…they no longer exist because Adrian got a hold of them. If anyone even slightly makes his darlings uncomfortable, he's got the knife out ready to go. It is a trait that Naomi takes advantage for her own gains. </p>
<p>Judgement - Would this yandere ever open up to their darling? Fuck no! Give his darling the upper hand before they get fully corrupted. What is he, stupid? He let Naomi think for months that she'd found his true name until he just couldn't hold in his giggles anymore. He believes that a pet should understand his love but never him.</p>
<p>The Magician - How would this yandere use their abilities/status on their darling? <br/>Adrian is a vampire and he's a rich one at that. He's drank of Naomi's blood and that allows him access to her thoughts and history. He also fucks most partners into semi consciousness. All of these are advantages Adrian uses against Naomi. She wants to leave, he uses his strength or the promise of money. She wants to argue, a bite or sex is required. She's ignoring him for her hacking work, he knows what will make her pay attention to him. He even turns her just so her corruption can be completed.</p>
<p>The Hierophant - Could this darling’s yandere fool them easily? Or be manipulated by them? Yes, OMG! Like I stated earlier, Adrian loves to play games with his darlings. And only when its too late does he spring the trap. Plus he is literally in Naomi's bloodstream, so no matter how she struggles, he is one step ahead of her.</p>
<p>The Hermit - Is this yandere more relaxed, or capable of being more relaxed? Of course, once he's sure of a darling Adrian's fairly easy-going. He'll even let Marcus or his family play with them. But don't assume that easygoing manner means he won't be ready to go full yan if the darling betrays him or runs.</p>
<p>Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere “kill” undesirable traits of their darling? No! No! He would never kill a darling because that means the darling beat him. He had a darling in process kill themselves and he was made about it for years. He is not above using pain or threats against family members to train a darling to act the right way. Only as a tool of course. He'd rather corrupt a darling rather than fully break them.</p>
<p>The Star - How would this yandere deal with their darling’s loved ones? Adrian loves his darling’s loved ones, they make excellent tools in gaining obedience. And baring that they make excellent colleratal. If they have issues with their family (like Naomi), he also uses that to manipulate his chosen pets further into darkness. </p>
<p>The World - Would this yandere ever give up on their darling? Only if they completely break under his onslaught. He hates weak pets. They become boring after a while but a darling that still bares their teeth on occasion is fun. He lives for those brief moments of resistance. Note that he gives them to his brother who loves broken and weak pets. </p>
<p>The High Priestess - What expectations does this yandere have for their darling? He only asks when they become corrupted and free of shame that they remember he gave them that freedom. That the pleasure and sensation that overwhelms them like no other is his to give them. And for them to be his forever.</p>
<p>The Lovers - How would this yandere deal with their darling being in a relationship with someone else? Not well, he'll be that asshole in NTR manga. The one that seduces their darling into cheating and send them back with cum dripping down their thighs. And the gea that they can't cum with anyone else. Then when the darling makes the mistake of saying they need them, the someone else gets a visit from Adrian. It either ends with Adrian getting a meal or the rival leaving his darling alone.</p>
<p>Wheel of Fortune - Would this yandere’s behavior stay the same over time? If not, why do they remain the same? Yes because as his pets change he must change with them. As their corruption blossoms, he has to guide them along a path that is favorable to him. Besides he’s a vampire and has to change with the times.</p>
<p>Temperance - What made this person yandere for their darling? This is so cliche but her blood and the sins in that blood. If he senses a great darkness in the heart that they hide from, it makes Adrian want them by his side.</p>
<p>The Moon - Is this yandere sensitive to what their darling says or does? If not, why don’t they care? Adrian is for the most part very sensitive to his darling. He tries to show that he cares for them. Naomi briefly mentions her birthday is coming up soon, there is the motherboard that she was always talking about on her bed. She looks tired and hasn’t eaten due to her hacking jobs, she gets picked up and forced to stop. He takes good care of his pets but only because of his ego. He does ignore protests and harsh words because his darling just doesn’t understand he’s trying to help them.</p>
<p>The Empress - Would this yandere want to have children with their darling in the future? Absolutely not! Even if he was capable of having children, Adrian would never want a child to come between him and his darling. Motherhood would distract his darling from loving him the most. If being a father was possible, he is the type to crush birth control into their food or sterillize himself. He is a vampire so thankfully that is out of the question. Because Adrian is already terrifying, him dealing with children makes me drop a brick.</p>
<p>The Chariot - What freedoms would this yandere allow, and take away? Getting to contact their family, going out amongst other people without him, getting to “escape” for a while (because he always loves a good chase), leaving his darling’s loved ones alone. All are ‘freedoms’ Adrian grants and all are things that he’ll gleefully take away if his pets start to stray.</p>
<p>Justice - Does this yandere ever feel conflicted about what they’re doing? No. He knows that he can be harsh but he views it as a good thing. He’s freeing them from a boring and lonely life. </p>
<p>The Devil - What taboo things would this yandere do to their darling? Besides killing and/or maiming them permnently, there is a lot of things Adrian will do with a darling that is considered taboo. Get them involved with murder, drug use, mind control, having a darling put the bite on a loved one, many many sexual taboo things, anything that makes a darling fall further into the dark, and really isn’t being a yandere a taboo thing as well? </p>
<p>The Sun - When would this yandere feel content with their situation? When his chosen darling fully gives up fighting too much and accepts that pleasure and depravity is really the best thing for them. When his darling looks at him with affection and bloody hands that is when he knows they are truly his.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Like entropy, grief pulls at you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An attempt to remix an earlier fic and turn into an original story in my own urban fantasy universe. I got distracted by Sergei Vladimir</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Losing everything was less like having things ripped away. It was more like entropy. Like the pull of a supermassive black hole pulling at your limbs as you tried to resist. Once it started grief kept yanking and pulling. It was having one’s foot tied to a rock which was falling over a cliff. No way to stop the inevitable.</p><p>First your husband, then your mother, and now it seemed that your sister was gone too. It was a risk of your profession. But as you looked into the box that held your sister’s hand, you didn’t want to lose anyone else to the family business. You didn’t want your daughter to grow up to this life. You could not let her become a monster hunter. </p><p>The flower tattoo around her wrist was isntantly recogniziable. You had both gotten matching ones. White flowers to symbolize hope. Little good that did your sister. </p><p>You wanted to cry because holy fuck. She had to be dead and there was only one monster in this city that dismembered their enemies. She really tried to do it. You were pissed. Whatever she had gotten into had killed her and put both you and your daughter in danger. </p><p>Certainly you deserved some of the blame. When your husband had passed, his debts hadn’t. Selling your sister some information from Mom’s books on the monster’s in the city had seemed so harmless. You knew why she had wanted them, espcially when she narrowed in on the feared figure of the The Night Tiger. Famous enforcer for the Kulanski family and the cruelest bloodsucker in the entire city. Her mother had faced them once and she still bore the scars until the end of her life. But your sister had been a hunter for seventeen years, a team of mages and trained hunters.</p><p>And the money. Working as a bartender  was not helping to pay for Gabriel’s schooling and the offered money was going to go toward that. It wasn’t easy to pay for that school “Hell, I’ll pay for her college too when she get there. We’ll go to Disney Land to celebrate one less blood sucker in the world. One that caused Mom all that pain anyway.” </p><p>Looked like Disney Land was canceled now. Her sister was just a hand in a box and there was a high chance her daughter and her were going to share the same fate. If you didn’t get a move on.</p><p>You felt bad as you packed some clothes and opened your GTHO bag. There was no time to bury her arm. Just enough to find your old rosewood Magnum with the special bullets and your money and the books that caused all of this. </p><p>It was when you got into your car that you started to break down. You slammed your fist against the dashboard. You shouldn’t have to see that. Shit your Daughter shouldn’t be in danger right now. How could she have been so fucking dumb? The white tiger was old and ancient and so powerful her mother had warned them to never take him on. Even for a “special client.” If you could, you would have throttled her yourself. If it wasn’t clear that she was dead. </p><p>She was dead and she would never get to see how well Susan was doing. How she was getting better at signing, how her hearing aides were helping her. You burst into tears at a stop light. Horrible wails bellowing out of you as you drive.</p><p>You clean yourself up and pull up at the school. Your daughter, fresh and small comes running out of the doorway. For a moment, your heart lightens. She turns and waves at her teachers, signing goodbye as she hopes into your car. </p><p>‘Mommy what is wrong?’ She signs it out rapidly and you just hug her. Breathing in the scent of her braided hair, the barette straching your cheek. You lean back after a long moment and let her see your mouth. </p><p>“We have to get out of town Susan. Some bad men hurt Auntie and they might try to hurt us.” </p><p>‘Why?’ Her orche hands flutter out the words. </p><p>“Who knows,” you lie. She nods her head</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>My two lesbians Zoryana, a vampire possessed by a demon and Leticia, a woman possessed by a God. A scene between the two of them to establish their relationship. And to answer a question on discord.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Leticia managed to save her drink from her numb hands just as Zoryana walked into the restaurant. The conversation Frank was having with his boyfriend paused as they followed her gaze. </p><p>First thing that came to mind was sharp. Zoryana was sharp and lean. Indigo pants suit pressed with a crease likely to cut glass. Jacket just open enough to be risqué but never vulgar. The hints of her tattooed sigil peaking past the lapel. Obsidian beads tethered to a chain around her pale slim neck. She even had on those black and red heels that clicked against the floor. The details fluttered into Leticia’s shocked mind. </p><p>Then she smiled and those painted black lips revealed those sharp teeth. Leticia’s recently healed bite mark itched. Their eyes meet and her cheeks grow hot. </p><p>Zoryana moved like a knife, walking straight for her table. Everyone pausing in their conversations to watch her stalk by. Then they all pivoted to look at her destination, Leticia. Frank whistled and his boyfriend looked unbelieving. </p><p>Leticia looks down at her Irish coffee with trembling hands. She felt like a female peacock. Dull, brown, and insignificant against her more flamboyant partner. </p><p>‘What the hell was I thinking. Am I cute enough for her?’ The same damn thoughts that came up whenever Zoryana and her went out. </p><p>“Hello Leticia. Frank.” Zoryana bends down to kiss her cheek. The scent of lily of the valley is stronger tonight. Up close, Leticia notes that she has put in her glass eye. That her eyes are lined with brown to soften her face. She rubs her forehead against hers before kissing her again.</p><p>“I am so happy to see you Leticia.” Her voice makes her name sound more musical than the foster parents of her past. She remembers what Zoryana whispered to her when she felt shy on her arm. “The male peacock has to dress up to impress the female. Not the other way around.”    </p><p>“I’m happy to see you too, Zoryana.” She puts her cup down and stands to embrace her. While she wasn’t entirely free of her fears, Leticia holds her tight. “I am so glad to see you. Let me introduce you to my friends.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One of my vampire OCs and the Reader engage in vampire stuff. Would you believe that I'm scared to write explicit PIV scenes? That is why I write so much kinky stuff. You can have sex without PIV. Silly ginger dom Xavier is cute to me. He'll wine and dine you then make you sit on a vibrator while reading German love poems if you two hit it off. Working on my other fics, just purging the wips that I won't finish right now</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You are mine.” It was a statement of simple fact. You tried to nod, but your restraints prevented that. Ever since the red-haired man entered your life, Xavier had made you his. At first with gentle touches, flowers, gifts and nibbles along your throat, wooing you like an eighteenth-century gentleman. Despite his tendency to pull you into private places and cover you in feverish kisses, he was always respectful and ever so controlled.</p><p>And once you had given in, suggested that you wanted to see him lose that fine control, he overwhelmed you. With his rope bondage and toys, the sharp teeth that left you shaking and shuddering against him at night as he drank from you. And that still gentle touch. Despite your surrender, he was still a gentleman. There was an awe in his brown eyes every time you submitted to him, like now.</p><p>Your limbs were still shaking in the ornate rope knots he tied you into. He had been on like a wolf as soon as you walked into your shared apartment. Kissing you and knotting the gray jute rope onto your brown limbs as he tsked at you. </p><p>He held up your Magic Wand, and you knew it would be a long night. You hadn’t told him you had bought that. When he finished tying you up, but before he placed the bit into your mouth, you asked him to take a picture.</p><p>“We both know that you want to. I know I look good.” You grinned up at him, your tight brown Havana twists bouncing against your shoulder. He reaches down and coils a strand around his fingers. But he shakes his head as he kneels in front of you.</p><p>“Now is not the time for that, my dear. It is time for this.” You yelped when he turned on the magic wand at nearly full intensity, pressing it against your thigh. You pressed your face against his shoulder as he touched it to your clit. He had to put the bit gag in to keep you quiet. Your neighbors would have called the cops if they heard you scream and whine as he teased you with the Hitachi.</p><p>“There is something so lovely about a woman tied up like this. Made up like a piece of art, but approachable. Helpless against what I can do to them. But trusting me to not hurt them.” You looked him in the eyes and tried to smile. But the bit gag in your mouth made it a little hard to do. He trailed a hand along your still heaving chest. The aftershocks of your recent orgasms still made you tremble.</p><p>“Do you want me to stop, dear Fraulein?” You shake your head no. Your pleas to keep going don’t stop came out garbled, and you felt yourself drool a little. Xavier smiled warmly at you. He cups your face and presses a feather soft kiss to your forehead.</p><p>“Such obedience, my love. So sweet and ever ready for all the games I want to play with you, yes?” You nod and he chuckles. He kisses you again on the forehead. Then he kisses your nose, eyelids, and the gag in your mouth.</p><p>When he hums, you realize that you must have bitten your tongue during one of your orgasms. Because Xavier only hummed when he tasted your blood. It hadn’t been enough for you to taste. And you didn’t mind a little blood when you played with him. His senses were more acute. Hearing his pleasure at your taste made your abdomen clench. If he touched your slit now, you would come again. He leans back on his heels, hazel eyes dilated.</p><p>Xavier teases you. Even as you present him with your neck, he just pants. You know he is admiring your vein. Admiring how it throbs, as if it was inviting him to sip from it. He smiles, teasing you with a hint of those sharp fangs.</p><p>“Oh my, you are eager for my bite. Didn’t all those times you came earlier satisfy you?” You shook your head. With him, it was never enough. And he knew that. He leans in closer, the scent of iron and clean linen making you nuzzle his cheek. Xavier stops you and licks at your bloodied saliva again.</p><p>“You want my teeth in your neck?” You nod. “Then earn it.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back on my lesbian demon infested vampire and her Star God girlfriend silliness. It's one of my many wips along with my fanfiction works.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m one of a kind.” Zoryana tucked the burnt portions of her shirt out of sight. She was still smoldering despite the smile on her face.</p><p>Leticia wants to throw water on her, then after that find a corner and start screaming in terror. Instead, she allows Zoryana to pull her along the street. Away from the raw and smoking bits of dead body that used to be a mercenary pointing a gun at them five seconds ago. Zoryana spits at him as they pass.</p><p>This was the first she had ever seen the vampire unleash the demonic entity chained to her. Now Leticia wanted to go swallow enough Xanax to keep her panic in. The bird-headed woman appeared in the corners of her vision. Like she always did when scared. She quaked.</p><p>“I’m one of a fucking kind, Leticia. Instead of running from my demons, I held the door open and said come on in.” Her accent was sharper and Leticia notes that her nails feel more claws in her hands. Zoryana is burning up.</p><p>“You’re smoking! You need to stop... you can drink from me.” Leticia stops and holds Zoryana’s hands tighter.</p><p>“Let it in and gave them an engagement ring. What the fuck? Are you serious?” Leticia nods. Zoryana’s black eyes bore into hers.</p><p>“No. Your blood is too strong for me. It will have me twisted for days. Later... okay. Besides, we captured that cute nun. I can use her tonight, all right?”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was originally going to use this as the opener to chapter 4 but Olivia comes across as too sympathetic here. A lot less cunning. And really I want her to be more cunning and mean in the past than sad. But I still like some of the imagery here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Olivia wasn't unsatisfied. Or at least that is what she told herself as she lay there hungry. She stroked Petro's red hair, hands trembling. He'd fallen asleep once Olivia reassured him she was okay. That she had come. And she did but it wasn’t enough. His red hair was touched with moonlight from a cracked window. </p><p>The same light illuminating that her pale skin was bruise free. She stops stroking his hair, hands trembling. There was a depressing lack of pain only sweet words whispered into her ear. He was so gentle, hands gliding over with reverence. Too soft to truly make Olivia lose herself. </p><p>“Love you, zayunia. Cherish you forever.” Petro mumbles in his sleep, his American accent butchering the Ukrainian. She smiles at that but the words do nothing to calm her. </p><p>‘It doesn’t feel the same without a hand around the throat. Without the terror and the pain.’ Olivia stops that thought. Tries to force it down by stroking Petro’s hair and pressing a gentle kiss to his crown. Such ungrateful thoughts espcially for a man that cared for her, was gentle and kind to her.</p><p>
  <em>Wouldn’t wrap an ever tightening rope around her throat while driving his cock deeper into her as she comes from the lack of air and those lovely clamps at her breast. </em>
</p><p>She feels that familiar ache like a black ball in her loins. The ceiling was starting to blur. </p><p>Alexei ruined her. Passed his perversity to her as surely as a virus. Made her want such perverse things that her husband had recoiled at first. Then refused. Petro was a gentle man and he did not understand her need for living on the edge of a razor.</p><p>“Love is gentle and that monster did not love you. Let me show you what true love is.” And she did love him. Loved him almost as much as money or Sofia. </p><p>So why did she ache to feel horrid roughness still despite her satisfaction? She would have to be up early to meet her contact in Umbrella. Some janitor for the UBCS office in Racoon city. Work provided an escape and thinking about finding some dark secret of Umbrella kept her mind off of hunger. Sleep came after the ache left her, ebbing and flowing along the shores of her memories.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Objects of faith</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Have an idea to crossover some of my original UF novel characters with RE villains. This is just a test for that fic idea. And for writing Nicholai better in why does my heart keep on beating.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My brain is a weird thing. I woke up and thought: If Zoryana is the only vampire in your novel that can repelled by True Faith, wouldn't Nicholai be able to chase her off with his credit card or by making it rain? Or what about Sergei, would she hiss like a Hammer vampire if he held up a picture of Stalin at her?  And I hanged my head in shame because I actually wrote it out. Also realized that I made my big scary Scythian vampire lady a fangirl of Megan Thee Stallion. I can't stop laughing at that. Surprise Sergei cameo at the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoryana pulled the hem of her black dress down in the loud nightclub. It barely covered the knife holstered against her thigh. She felt awkward in this tight dress, softening makeup and without her eyepatch. Her glass eye wobbled in her socket. But the makeover and a little bit of the Voice had been enough to get her through the door and into the VIP section.</p><p>Bass pounds hard as the DJ stirs the crowd toward the drop. On most nights, she would be in the crowd. Body pressed tight against a warm, sweet girl. Drinking shots until her anatomy made her purge it. But she was on the job. And her target was close.</p><p>The white-haired man with a cocky smile and causal gray suit. Sitting in the VIP section alone with a half empty bottle of Beluga Gold line, a small hammer beside it. Normally, Zoryana would applaud him. He had excellent taste in vodka for a dead man.</p><p>Sariel informed her of the blood on his hands. How the restless souls of his former comrades pleaded for his life. Whispered of his callous disregard as he undermined and sabotaged them. What did that matter when this man was just prey?</p><p>She didn’t want to work for the council again. They were crazed in their devotion to the Mother of the Hunt. They also attempted to kill Leticia last time. Then there was the fact that working with them meant taking a loss in her wallet. But the one hundred thousand contract from her contact in the Tambov gang sweetened the deal. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt.</p><p>“Hey, cutie, may I sit with you? I love Beluga! And you’re cute too.” Zoryana’s voice was unrecognizable even to herself. More valley girl twang than the deep growl of the ghost of St. Petersburg. She pouts when he shakes his head.</p><p>“Go away, nochnaja babochka. Can’t you see I want to be alone?” He takes another shot with a smirk. Zoryana was proud of her self restraint. In any other context, she would rip out his heart by now. Beleth roaring at the violence. She coos at the insult instead.</p><p>“Nocahnina babaco? What does that mean? It sounds really cute.” The target laughs at her ignorance. She was going to enjoy sliding her knife slowly into his liver.</p><p>“Come here.” Zoryana stalks closer, swaying her thin hips to invite him closer. Easier to do when ‘Don’t Stop’ came on. She imagined the artist was there instead. He never moved or spoke, merely rotated his index finger for her to turn around.</p><p>“Like what you see, mister?” Zoryana rolled her eyes at that. After this, she was going to find a hot girl and finger bang her in a back alley until she started speaking in tongues. Straight girls had her respect if this shit was normal.</p><p>“You’ll do for tonight. Sit down.” He pets the seat beside him as if she was a dog. Forget the liver, Zoryana was going for the gut first. She sits down with a giggle and leans in close. He pulls her closer until her head rests against his shoulder. He places a kiss on the top of her head. Then his hand rests on her thigh as he pours her a shot of vodka.</p><p>Zoryana reaches past him to take the shot glass off the table. That is when she feels the snub-nosed revolver pressed against her side. This was getting fun. She whines pitifully, but on the inside she cheered. All of her wanted to crack the vodka bottle against the table and start stabbing. But this kill had to be discrete. No witnesses, no collateral.</p><p>“What’s all this? Are guns your thing, Nicholai?” She drinks the vodka, no longer putting on that silly voice. Zoryana pets his hand, Russian flowing easily. “So what gave me away?”</p><p>“No American I ever dealt with recognizes Beluga so easily. Then you bent over just a little too far just now. I thought, ‘Nicholai, which hitman you’ve heard of is a woman and crazy enough to bring a knife to a gunfight?’”</p><p>Nicholai gestures toward the bottle, and she pours him another shot. Everyone deserved a last drink. She didn’t need a knife to end him.</p><p>“You’re rather young looking for a centenarian. Solid feeling for a ghost.” Zoryana chuckles.</p><p>“Don’t really care. All I see is a bag of blood with a nice paycheck attached. Now if you believe all the ghost stories, you know a bullet will not be enough to kill me. Not even an entire army. Many have tried, all have died.” It was a boast, but deserved. She’d killed many people to get to this point.</p><p>“I heard. I also knew someone was coming for me. Between the OPVs, Umbrella, Sergei, and various others, I had a lot of choices. Getting a legend sent my way is flattering. But I’m not trying to kill you. Just give myself a head start.” He smirked at her.</p><p>“Hard to get a head start when you’re bleeding out, Nicki.” It was his turn to laugh. He takes out a roll of currency and her skin crawls. A full on migraine pulses behind her eyes. When one bill touches her wrist, a minor burn forms. The power of faith, her one weakness.</p><p>“Do you know what I have faith in, Ms. Ghost? Money. It can buy my way to someplace warm. And it looks like faith doesn’t agree with you, baba.” He lets her go and drops a couple of bills on her lap. Zoryana hisses at him as the white pins her to the chair. Nicolai stands, patting his clothes down. “Don’t feel bad, you got pretty close.”</p><p>“Fuck you, gosnovos! When I get out of here, I’m going to ram my fist so far up your ass you’ll be my eternal meat puppet.” He slaps her with another bill across the face. She grits her teeth as the sensation feels like acid. A Cheshire smile lights up his face.</p><p>“Fun as that sounds, I’d probably end up throwing more money at you. Now never let it be said that I’m not a gentleman. There is enough there to pay for the drinks and your time. Bye for now.” He left her there, that grin still on her mind when the cocktail server came to check on them.</p><p>“Get these fucking things off of me. And hey, you’re really cute.” She made sure to leave a good tip as she left. By then, Nicholai's trail grew cold. Too many people. Later, puffs from the Java cigarette turning the air around her white in the street, Zoryana noticed a black car following her. Either her handler or the contract holder. She whirls on her purser, teeth and nails growing sharp. Excellent chance to work out her frustrations.</p><p>The car pulls up until the rear passenger window faces her. In the tinted windows, Zoryana notices her eye has turned black and gold. The window comes down, and she is face to face with a massive man in a purple overcoat.</p><p>“Comrade Yuri Sokolov.” Zoryana goes still. She hadn’t been called that since 1942. Whoever he was, this mortal had done his research. More so than her target. But she was not scared, she was never alone.</p><p>“What the fuck do you want?” Zoryana flicked the cigarette out of her mouth. Placed her hands on her hips with a cocky grin.</p><p>“You had contact with a Nicholai Zinoviev recently.” He doesn’t appear fazed by her attitude at all. No question in his voice. Just like her old captain from the forties before the gulag.</p><p>“Ah, the man whose spine I’m going to wear as a belt. Do you think my Alexander McQueen suit would look good with it?” He doesn’t even crack a grin, only opens the door for her and slides over to make room for her. “What is in it for me?”</p><p>“Umbrella will compensate you greatly for any information regarding his whereabouts.” She comes closer, despite knowing what she knows about Umbrella. Would be fun to work with a group that didn’t seal her every week.</p><p>“So will the OPVs, can they pay better than them?” Her nails grow blunt. He’s heavily scarred, she sees. One of his eyes is gone. Unlike her, he wears it with pride.</p><p>“Of course, Ms. Zoryana.” She steps in and slams the door shut, hands pressing her dress down. Big car for a big man. She recognizes a bag of blood in the seat in front of her. They had done a lot of research.</p><p>“Fine then, feels good to be working with my countrymen again.” The car drives off into the night.</p>
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